


LDR

by Even-Gayer-In-Slomo (EvenGayerInSlomo), Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Myan Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvenGayerInSlomo/pseuds/Even-Gayer-In-Slomo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: After having a long distance relationship for almost two years, Michael and Ryan finally meet.





	LDR

**Author's Note:**

> EvenGayerInSlomo and I have been writing fics together for a long time, and this is the first completed story we've done! We hope you enjoy it :)

Michael bit his lip as he opened his laptop, signing in and waiting for Skype to load. He drummed his fingers along the keys, not quite pressing down hard enough to actually hit any letters. If he turned on sticky keys again he might slam his laptop shut and avoid it for longer than he already had been.

When Ryan’s tiny icon (and accompanying online status) flashed into view, he couldn’t stop the irrational pang of worry that had taken hold in his stomach.

It wasn’t that he had never done a video call with him before - eight on a Sunday tended to be the standing time for their conversations, as a matter of fact. It was just -

The Skype window changed, morphing into a call screen as Ryan tried to hold a video chat. Still chewing his lip, he angled the screen and turned on his desk lamp, all to make his grainy, mirrored image as flattering as possible, and accepted the call.

“Jeez, give a guy time to check his email first,” Michael said with a smirk.

“What are you talking about? I totally wasn’t waiting for you to sign on,” Ryan spoke, his nose slightly scrunched up as he lied. “I was, you know. Doing important things. Homework.”

“I thought you said you don’t  _have_ any homework.”

“Uh… studying for finals?”

Michael snorted. “You don’t study.”

“There was an important cat video in my inbox.”

“You don’t even  _like_ cats!”

“Not really, but everyone likes a good cat video. Here, I can show you -” A moment later Michael saw a link pop up in the chat box. The preview image jarred something in his mind.

“Oh, with the bubbles? Yeah, that was pretty cute.” He didn’t open the video, instead moving his gaze back up to look at Ryan. His  _boyfriend_ of almost two years. Even if they hadn’t met in person yet.

Ryan crossed his arms in apparent victory. “Told you so.”

“You’re still a nerd, though.”

“Can’t wait for you to say that to my face.” Michael froze for a second, eyes widening.

“Oh shit, I  _can_ say it to your face. Holy fuck.”

Ryan frowned. “No, don’t freak out Michael, come on.”

“How can I not freak out? I’m finally gonna see you in person.” Ryan answered with a tinny sounding laugh.

“Yes, I know, we’ve kind of been planning this for months? You showed me your plane tickets the other week.” At their mention, Michael’s gaze shifted over to where his phone sat by his laptop. He didn’t have to look to know that his flight itinerary was there. In just a few days he’d be getting on a plane and - meeting Ryan. The thought made his stomach twist up in a knot of anxiety.

“I feel like I’m dreaming and this isn’t actually happening,” he mumbled. The sound of a chair moving brought his attention back to Ryan, who’d moved himself closer to his computer. He watched as Ryan raised a hand, moving until he was pressing his fingers against the screen. It was a dumb thing they did, but...

Michael pressed his own against his laptop, pretending that he could feel Ryan pressing back. He swallowed. “You won’t, like, kick me out to a hotel if we don’t do well in person, right?” he joked weakly.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I… hadn’t formed any contingency plans. Are you seriously worried about that?” Michael could only shrug helplessly. “Hey, Michael - I get that you’re nervous -”

“Was it that obvious?”

Ryan continued, “And I’m nervous too, but it’s not like we’re strangers or anything. We’ve been together for almost two years at this point. I’m pretty sure I know you well enough to be certain that we’re gonna be fine in real life. We’ll just, pick up where we left off, like how we always do.”

Michael scratched at his chin. “So that  _is_ a no, right?”

“Michael!”

“I’m mostly kidding.”

Ryan sighed, drawing his hand away. “Maybe we should talk about less serious stuff, then. Anything going on in your neck of the woods?” Michael managed to dredge up a few topics of interest, some interpersonal drama at his job, something funny his mom did the other day. Ryan mostly talked about how much he had to write and study for his exams, and apparently the last one - the one he would be finishing the day before Michael’s plane got in - was going to be a pain in the ass.

Ryan’s college had stationary exam times, so he knew when his finals would be as soon as he got his class schedule. And unlike past semesters, most of his classes either had projects to hand in on the last day of class, or their finals were right at the beginning of the exam period. His roommate was going to be cleared out around the same time, so Ryan suggested that Michael should finally come down and visit, where they would have Ryan’s suite to themselves for the whole week before he had to pack up and leave.

“I keep telling you you should’ve started selling yourself like I do.”

Ryan blanched. “Don’t call it that.”

Michael leaned back in his chair. “What? That’s what a job is. I’m selling my labor skills to the highest bidder.”

“You make it sound like you do cam work.”

“That could be a good supplement -”

“Michael,” Ryan swiped a hand through his hair. “No. Bad. I mean, you’d probably be very good at it, but that cuts into your busy day life. If you started doing webcam shows for interested parties you’d never have any free time to talk to me."

“I mean, you know you’d get a discount, baby,” Michael replied, winking at his webcam. He couldn’t do anything about his pink cheeks. Sexting and sending pictures to each other was one thing, but every time they tried to do something on video… it just felt weird. Wrong. Like they already knew it was going to be a waste of time because they weren’t actually  _together._ At least, that’s what Michael had always thought. But maybe that was just a preemptive sign that they weren’t compatible at all, or maybe -

“You’re thinking real loudly over there,” Ryan interrupted. “If you’re planning out the name of your future camboy persona please let me know it.”

“Planning? Rye-bread, please, we all know it’s going to be Taylor Lovelace.” Ryan gave a considering look before nodding, evidently satisfied with the idea.

“Alright, I guess I’ll be keeping that in mind. Maybe periodically search it to see what comes up. I’d have to be your biggest fan, right -” Ryan paused, turning around to stare at something out of view of his camera. “Oh really? Shit, okay, I can be ready in five. Yeah go ahead and text them.” Ryan turned back to Michael with an apologetic look on his face. “Uh, my roommate just said that a friend of ours needs a ride. They missed the last campus shuttle and are currently stranded at a Wal-Mart.”

“Wow. I won’t stop you from playing hero, then.” Ryan shrugged helplessly.

“Duty calls. But um - I’ll meet you at the airport on Thursday, okay? I’ll text you when I’m there.”

“Okay, yeah, that works. Um. Good luck on your last final, okay? Bye.” He gave a little wave before disconnecting the call. With a thump, he planted his face squarely into his keyboard. The message warning him of turning on sticky keys screamed at him. Michael was fucked.

 

-

 

Michael dipped and curved his body so he could get out of the cramped airplane aisle without touching anyone or hitting his duffel bag on any of the seats. At least he didn’t have to go down to baggage claim; that was always a nightmare.

Then again, that could buy him some precious time before having to face the inevitable. It was so unfair, having to deal with the heady excitement of meeting Ryan combined with the anxious knot in his stomach from… meeting Ryan. He suddenly couldn’t remember if he’d put on deodorant before the flight. Did he have his phone? Did he put his Switch back into his bag? Was he in the right arrivals terminal? Who knew. He numbly followed the signs towards the pick up point, shifting his luggage as he trudged down a long flight of stairs. His grip on the bag’s strap went to white-knuckled intensity as he spotted a bunch of people milling about, some of them holding signs with people’s names on them.

Ryan was somewhere in that crowd, waiting for him.

He squinted at the crowd of people, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Ryan’s familiar face. At least, he hoped it was familiar. People tended to look different from photos and videos than in real life. And that was assuming that their entire relationship wasn’t some sort of incredibly advanced catfishing ruse that was going to end up with Michael at best stranded at the airport or at worst, getting murdered and left in a ditch somewhere - “Oh,” he said, catching sight of a tall, broad-shouldered, nervous looking guy holding a piece of paper with  _Taylor Lovelace_ scrawled across it. “You bitch!” Michael shouted, trying not to laugh. Ryan’s listless gaze snapped towards him, and he grinned stupidly, watching Michael wander over towards him.

When Michael was close enough, Ryan stepped forward, arms out. The sign fluttered to the floor, forgotten _._

“You’re here!” Michael had to quell another wave of nerves when he realized Ryan was going in for a hug. Stupid Southern hospitality; Michael was decidedly  _not_ a hugger. But he didn’t want Ryan to think he was weird - weirder than he already was. He closed his eyes, accepting the tight embrace he was enveloped in. Ryan’s arms were big and strong and warm and it was - it was really nice. Michael slid his arms around his boyfriend’s middle, letting out a little sigh and sinking into the other’s chest a bit. It was the first time he had ever touched Ryan, and it felt like the safest, most comfortable hug in the world.

“You smell nice,” Ryan mumbled into his hair. Okay, so he’d remembered to wash his hair at least. Thank God.

“Thank you, um. You hug nice.” Michael’s entire body shook as Ryan laughed; the feeling made Michael smile, and when they both reluctantly pulled away, they couldn’t hide the matching grins on their faces.

“Wow. It’s so crazy being able to see you in 3D,” Ryan said. Michael laughed. If he kept this up his cheeks were going to start cramping.

“Yeah?” He had known for a while now that he felt more than just affection or attraction for Ryan. He really did love him, even if he never said it out loud. He had bided his time until they were together in person. Because for all of his crude jokes and tendency to swear too much, he was a big dumb romantic at heart.

Maybe, some time this week, he’d be able to tell him.

“Yeah just, wow. You’re all high definition. And I don’t have to worry about kicking out a wire and you disappearing,” Ryan rubbed at his hair, sheepish. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“God, right when I was trying to tell you where your waypoint needed to be in GTA. That was so fucking funny.”

“Yeah. Hey uh, I need to do something real quick. Okay?”

“Uh, okay?” Michael took a step back, expecting Ryan to make a phone call or walk off, when he was startled by hands reaching up to hold his face. Soft lips pressed to his, and all he could think at first was how Ryan’s mouth tasted like peaches, of all things. Michael felt a jolt go through him, heating his face and prompting him to shut his eyes in case anyone was staring at them. As soon as he registered the kiss completely (his lips were so  _soft_ ) Ryan was pulling away, thumbs trailing along his cheekbones. Michael looked up and saw Ryan’s eyes bore into his own, intense and gentle all at once.

“Was that okay?” Ryan whispered.

“Y-Yeah. Um. More than okay.” Michael shifted his bag on his shoulder. He was sure he was looking way too obvious, and tried to reign his expression into something more joking, less lovestruck. When he had set out to find a good time to tell Ryan he loved him, he didn’t mean  _five fucking minutes_ after he met him. “But maybe we should finish the reunion at your place?” Ryan furrowed his brow, glancing around as he realized that people were starting to take interest in them.

“Right, yeah. Let’s go.” Michael blinked at the hand Ryan suddenly held out to him. Oh. Right. Handholding. He swallowed, reaching for the other and loosely clasping his hand, letting Ryan lead him out of the sliding doors and into the bright Georgia sunshine.

“God, it’s fucking hot.”

“Lucky for you my dorm has AC.”

“Ryan, I wouldn’t have shown up if your dorm didn’t have AC. I have a delicate constitution, okay? Like a fucking lily. I need cool, breathable air if I’m going to survive.”

Ryan laughed and honestly? Michael could justify taking a plane trip multiple times over just to hear that in person every day. “I hate to break it to you, but my cars AC is a bit, uh, funny.”

“Define funny.”

“It mostly works? Sometimes I have to roll the windows down. It’ll be fine, I think you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I make no promises.”

“Just let me know if you need mouth-to-mouth,” Ryan winked. Michael turned his head away to hide his flushed cheeks. Damn it.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. He was glad that Ryan had parked close by, and let him fiddle with his bag and get situated in the passenger seat without any remarks. It was a blessed distraction, if only for a minute.

It was hot as hell in the car, and after watching Ryan try and fail at getting the AC to even crank on, Michael rolled his window down, leaning to the side to try to catch a breeze as Ryan pulled out of the parking lot.

“So how was your flight?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, uh - good. The transfer sucked, though. I guess there’s no flights from Newark down here.”

“Yeah, this airport is pretty small, all things considered. At least you didn’t have to fly into Atlanta. That would have been a nightmare.”

“You live like two hours from there, right?”

“Yeah. The town around my college is kind of quiet, but there’s stuff to do. Some bars we could go to, I guess. I already did some shopping, but we could head out if you need anything special. I thought maybe I could make you dinner when we get back?”

“I didn’t know you could cook!”

“I can kind of cook. It’s just chicken. Nothing fancy.”

“Still, I’m impressed.” Michael put his hand on the radio, turning the dial and pressing the buttons.

“You might have to search a while to find something that isn’t a talk show or country.”

“I was planning to check out your presets, see what I can judge you for during the drive.” That got a laugh out of Ryan.

“Joke’s on you, I have a CD collection in the glove compartment and half of it is just showtunes.”

“Really?” Michael immediately started to dig around, pulling out a thick black case and flipping through it. “Oh shit, you weren’t kidding. Why the fuck do you have the _Cats_ soundtrack?” Ryan just shrugged a shoulder.

Their conversation lapsed a bit once Ryan got onto the highway. The wind whipping through their hair was enough to cool Michael down, but it was too loud to maintain a conversation, so after a few shouted exchanges they decided not to bother. Most of the drive was highway, apparently, and Michael tried to remain calm despite the lack of talking. It was always difficult for him to be still - not talking or moving was a chore more often than not, and that nervous energy that Ryan had quelled upon their first meeting was starting to creep back up again.

His eyes wandered from the moving landscape over to the other man. Ryan had a serious look on his face as he drove, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated. The grip he had on the wheel made the muscles in his bicep and the vein along his forearm stand out. It was hot; stupidly hot, if Michael was honest with himself.

Eventually Ryan pulled off an exit, and onto a main street full of bars and restaurants and shops. A few minutes later, Ryan slowed down, craning his neck to look past Michael out the passenger side window.

“Oh good, they left the side entrance open.”

Michael startled from his reverie. “What?”

Ryan shook his head. “Talking to myself. Usually there’s a public safety guy posted at this entrance. It’s the closest one to my dorm, is all.” Michael peered around. The campus was a mix of old buildings from maybe the turn of the century, and some newer additions from the 50’s and possibly the 90’s, judging by the architecture. All the different buildings were separated by swathes of pedicured lawns, small trees, and bright flowers speckled in. There were a few people milling about, but it seemed like the campus was only working on about half capacity, a good amount of the students already having gone home for summer break.

Ryan parked next to one of the newer buildings. It was six stories tall with wide windows and sun-baked brick walls. Before he could undo his seatbelt, Ryan had rolled up the windows and rounded over to the backseat, pulling out Michael’s duffel, leaving the younger man to stumble awkwardly behind him as Ryan fished his school ID out of his wallet, sliding it through a reader and opening the door for Michael to walk through.

Here it was, no going back. He took a breath, passing from the oppressive heat into the chill of an air conditioned lobby.

Ryan’s room was on the third floor, and they didn’t encounter anyone else as they passed through the halls. “Most of the people here are upperclassmen,” Ryan explained. “So they have cars or know better to schedule their classes to get out as early as possible. My roommate left yesterday, so it’s just us.” He quickly unlocked an assuming door with a pair of little cows cut out in colored construction paper, the names ‘Jack’ and ‘James’ on display. Michael knew Jack was Ryan’s roommate, so a moment of confusion passed before he remembered that James was Ryan’s actual first name. It didn’t seem to fit him now. 

“James, huh?” Ryan glanced at the name before opening the door.

“Yeah, the RA’s make them. Why would they assume I go by my middle name?” Michael stepped through the threshold and into a small living room. A kitchenette was connected directly across to the other side of the area, and a hallway led off to the right side of the apartment. “The beginning of the year was full of a lot of name corrections.”

“You could write over it.” Ryan waved his hand, shutting the door again.

“Too much effort.”

“But… it’s your own name. What if someone was looking for you and couldn’t find you because you were too lazy to put the name you actually use on the door?”

Ryan waves a hand. “Eh, you know.”

“No, I don’t know! Where’s your room. I’m gonna get a marker and fix it myself.” Ryan rolled his eyes, stepping into the hallway.

“Come on, first door on the left.” The door was open, and Michael set his duffel on the bed, rubbing his shoulder as he looked around. There was a desk packed with books, a laptop charging next to a stuffed pencil cup. Ryan had added a few personal touches to the plain walls - a set of dark curtains, a few posters from what looked like concerts that happened at some bar or on campus that he had picked up for free. There were a few photographs in frames on his dresser, him with some friends at a party, or with his family. One picture seemed familiar, and it took Michael a bit too long to realize that it was his own dumb face smiling at the camera. He remembered sending that along with a Christmas gift down to Ryan’s house last year. It had been his mom’s idea, and he thought it was kind of silly at the time. He turned around, trying not to look like he had been staring. Glancing back at the bed, then over at Ryan, he realized how small a twin size mattress was for two grown men to share.

“Something wrong?” Ryan asked, one brow quirked. It was an incredibly attractive look on him. Because of course everything the asshole did had to be attractive.

“No just, uh. I didn’t think about how small your bed was.” Michael moved his duffel bag and laid down on the bed, spreading out his arms and easily taking up the whole thing. It was surprisingly comfortable, though.

“Oh. Right. I mean, conserving body heat  _is_ important.” Michael got out of bed with a grunt, digging through his bag and putting his multitude of chargers and his Switch on the bedside table, a bag of toiletries joining it. “You could stay in Jack’s bed, though, if you want,” Ryan carried on. “I asked him, he said he just wanted me to wash the sheets afterwards, so -”

“I’m fine with sharing,” Michael answered, eyes staring into his bag even though he knew there was nothing else to take out.

“Oh - well. Yeah. Okay.”

“Unless -”

“No! No. I’m fine with it. Um.” Ryan let out a breath behind him. “Sorry, it’s still kind of weird to be… Figuring all this out right now. You know?”

“We’ll share. And we’ll like, I don’t know, cuddle?” Michael told him, determined to not let his own nervousness meld with Ryan’s. Then it would be even more awkward than before. He stood up, pushing his duffel to the side with his foot. “Okay, I’m settled. And I believe you mentioned something about dinner?”

“Oh - yeah, I did. It’s kind of early -”

“And I was trapped in the sky, like, all day Ryan. I’m  _hungry_.” He used an exaggerated, childish voice as he patted his stomach, making Ryan shake his head. Michael could tell he wasn't actually annoyed, more fond than anything. He hoped.

“Okay, okay, come on - you can watch me work, I guess.” They trailed back into the kitchen, and Michael was quick to hop up onto a counter.

“There’s a chair almost right next to you,” Ryan pointed out. Michael shrugged, watching Ryan head over to the fridge and start to pull things out. “Also I hope you like stir fry.”

“Stir fry’s good,” Michael answered, kicking his legs and letting his shoes scuff the cabinet below him. At Ryan’s pointed frown, he toed his shoes off and let them drop to the tile floor.

“Better,” Ryan huffed.

They both fell silent after that, Michael watching Ryan work his magic in the kitchen as the room filled with the smell of chopped peppers, the sound of food sizzling over heat providing a backdrop of noise.

“I didn’t even think to ask if you cooked,” Michael supplied after a few minutes, an echo of their conversation in the car. Ryan shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s hard. You just chop up a bunch of stuff and throw it into a pan with some oil and wait till it’s cooked.” He opened a bag of frozen vegetables and dumped them into the sizzling pan, before flipping over a few chunks of seasoned chicken. “It’s not the 1930’s. Half the time I don’t even have to prep anything.” He shook the bag to emphasize his point before tossing it into the trash.

“Yeah, but I thought college boys were supposed to be minimalist survivors. Where’s your Costco box of chicken ramen? Where’s your hoarded salt packets from McDonald's?”

Ryan opened a cabinet, taking out a bottle of soy sauce and pouring a bit into the pan full of vegetables. “Well, I figured that my blood pressure was going to set a new world record if I kept eating any of that stuff after about a month into freshman year, so I had to find other stuff to eat. And the only thing I get from McDonald’s are their sweet teas.” Michael snorted. Typical. “And french fries if I’m feeling especially dejected by life.”

“I live off of those weird dude specific TV dinners,” Michael admitted. “And McDonald’s, definitely.”

 

“Good thing I’m the one cooking then, right?”

“I’ll just have to pack up some leftovers when I leave. Or you. I think you’d fit in my bag.” Ryan laughed, adding the chicken into the larger pan, mixing it in with the peppers, onions, and other vegetables.

“Sounds a bit perilous, and cramped, as much as I’d want to say yes.” He grabbed a tupperware container of rice and tossed it into the microwave to heat up. “Anything good up in Jersey?”

“I mean I could say me, but we both know I’m a shit head,” Michael joked. Ryan turned to look at him.

“No you’re not. You’re great. Very nice, funny, downright adorable most times.”

Michael rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide the flush spreading over his cheeks. Damn it. “Yeah, well...shut up, I mean - you’re really hot, so we’re even,” he argued.

“Now that’s a debatable point.”

“Weren’t you a teen model?” Michael asked with faux-aloofness. Ryan had let that fact slip at some point when they were stuck in a long, rambling conversation about how much jobs sucked, and Michael had never forgotten it, no matter how much his boyfriend wanted him to.

“Anybody can be a teen model if they try, Michael,” Ryan deadpanned. Michael could see the pink building on his cheeks as he took the heated rice out, spooning it out onto two plates.

“Yeah, but you probably just fuckin’ walked into it without even  _trying_ , so. You’re like a golden God!”

“I’m something alright, maybe the God of procrastination and not proofreading term papers.” He shut off the heat, dumping half in one plate and half in the other, handing one off to Michael. “One that will certainly descend into madness and die as a rejected, theologically obscure presence.”

“Who the fuck’s rejecting you? I sure ain’t. Also please tell me you have forks.”

“...Oh. Right. Forks.”

“Ryan. Ryan you - don’t do this to me.” Ryan laughed. “Ryan!”

“I’m messing with you Michael I promise,” Ryan assured him. “Unless you’re really good at using chopsticks?”

“ _Ryan_!” His yell was exasperated, and he could barely keep the laughter out of his voice. Any arguments he had with Ryan teetered on ridiculous, funny. He hoped that wouldn’t change, now that they were together in person.

Ryan turned around and fumbled through a drawer before returning with two forks, one of which Michael plucked from his hand, before heading over to the small table in the living room. Despite having come with the dorm, the wood was still glossy and the chairs weren’t at risk of falling apart any time you put your weight on it. Ryan handed Michael a napkin as he took the first bite of his food.

“Thanks, mom,” Michael flapped the napkin open and set it on his lap. “I gotta say, your dorm is way more classy than I thought dorms had any right to be.” Not that he had his own perspective to compare it to, but he had been to his older brother’s dorm once or twice - that had always looked like a dump. It made Michael’s skin crawl just looking around at how messy everything was.

“That’s mainly because of Jack, the guy loves going on cleaning sprees. To this day he swears he found my Diet Coke forming its own mold colony.” Ryan replied.

Michael shivered in disgust. “Ew.”

“He was exaggerating, I’m ninety percent sure.”

“I hope so.” He watched, fascinated, as Ryan shoved a large bite of food into his mouth, rice threatening to escape from the corners of his lips. “Wait, so - do you only have Diet Coke here?”

Ryan swallowed. “No, I mean - I may have stopped at the store before you came by and stocked up the fridge. Do you want anything?” He started to stand up.

“Uh, do you have beer? Or like, I know you don’t drink -”

“Yeah, but you do. I don’t know if it’s good but I got it.” Ryan crossed over into the kitchen, bringing back a Diet Coke for himself, and passing some local brew looking bottle to Michael. “Jack swears by it.” Michael popped the cap off and took a cautious sniff, twisting the bottle between his hands.

“It smells okay, so I’m optimistic.” He squinted at the label. “There’s peaches in this?”

“It’s Georgia, there’s peaches in everything.”

“Does your dick taste like peaches too?” Michael took a quick swallow of his drink to hide his face as Ryan sputtered.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Ryan finally answered, clearing his throat. “Would that even be possible?”

“I dunno Georgia boy. If flavored lube can make an ass taste like cherry cola I’m not seeing why dick can't taste like peaches.”

“Uh,” Ryan coughed. “Have you like, actually made your ass -”

“Maybe,” Michael said, quirking an eyebrow up. He took a bite of his food and hummed as he chewed. The chicken was fucking delicious, and he honestly couldn't tell that the vegetables had been pulled from the freezer. He guessed it was because of the soy sauce.

“Good?” Ryan asked. Michael nodded, gesturing his hand around as he tried to quickly swallow what he had left in his mouth. “Oh wow, a hand wiggle even. That must mean it's extra tasty.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Michael griped. “What are you, my fucking waiter? You see me chewing, bitch.”

“Hey man, I'll do whatever gets me those sweet tips.” Michael chuckled, eating more of the stir-fry. “Actually - did I tell you Jack’s a bartender during the summer back home? He had to start working last night, even though he just got back. I guess there were issues? He said half the staff fucked off for some party, and their place was packed the whole night. He was so pissed.”

“Shit man, that fucking sucks. Guess he can always burn the place down, right?”

“No, he just takes it in stride. He made a shit ton of tips, though, so there’s that.”

“More or less than me as a camboy?”

“Okay, well that just opens a whole line of questions, like - are you naked? Are you by yourself? Do you take requests?”

They carried on talking until long after they finished eating. Ryan took their plates away, and Michael, with nothing to say, twisted the mostly empty beer bottle nervously in his lap. Okay. Now what? He watched Ryan reach into the fridge for another soda, taking a sip as he looked at Michael.

Then Ryan glanced over towards the TV, where an XBox One was sitting conspicuously. “...Wanna play Far Cry?” he asked. The building cloud of nervous energy that had been surrounding Michael parted and dissipated.

Michael downed the rest of his beer. “Oh hell yeah.”

 

-

 

Michael wasn’t sure how long they’d been playing, but judging by the rasp starting in his voice from all the shouting and laughing he’d been doing, he wanted to guess at least three hours had gone by.

He set the controller on the coffee table in front of him when the ‘mission success’ screen popped up, and he rubbed his eyes, suppressing a yawn. “We showed those fucked up cultists who’s boss.” Ryan chuckled beside him, and Michael was so tempted to just lean against the other man’s side. Rest for a little while, you know?

“It’s fun being able to play with you sitting right here,” Ryan said, getting up to shut the console off.

“And not hearing my brother yell at me until I sign off?”

“I mean, I wasn't gonna mention that.” Michael opened his mouth to say something, but shut it as the room was suddenly enveloped by darkness. “Oops?” He couldn’t see, but he knew that Ryan’s face was sheepish standing next to the now turned off TV.

“Ryan, what did you think was gonna happen? You're the one who turned off all the lights earlier.” Michael blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to fucking focus on something in the dark room. He wasn't having much luck.

“Nah it's fine. Promise.” A blur that Michael assumed was Ryan stepped closer to the couch where he sat. The hand suddenly resting on his shoulder was still startling, though. “Found you.”

“Guess I'm It now?” Michael held still as the hand slid down his shoulder, his cheeks warming as Ryan took hold of his own hand. “Oh.”

“I know this room like the back of my hand, I'll lead you to bed,” Ryan explained.

“What? Are you tired? You big wimp, it’s only -” Michael cut himself off with an obnoxiously loud yawn, “Fuck, I was on a plane earlier.”

“You were indeed on a plane,” Ryan replied. Michael could imagine the raised eyebrow. The fucker.

“Jet lag grabbed me by the dick, alright? Let me go die in peace.” Michael finally stood from the couch, squeezing Ryan’s hand. Ryan’s laugh was warm and pleasant right by his ear as he led him down the hall, into his bedroom.

“You want the first shower then? Before you pass out from the jetlag you get from travelling within the same time zone?”

“Ugh, could you shower for me? Does that work?” Michael’s back was achey.

“‘Fraid not - I could shower  _with_ you, but we definitely wouldn’t fit. Uhh, here,” Ryan flicked on the bedroom light and went to his closet, holding out a folded towel for Michael. He headed down the hall, his brain unhelpfully reciting Ryan’s ‘I could shower with you’ line. He had managed to have a totally normal evening with his hot, nerdy boyfriend from the internet. Good. Great. Amazing. He could totally keep this up for the rest of the week, he thought as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair and started vigorously washing himself with whatever body wash Ryan had on hand. Yep. He was fine. Totally not fucked.

The AC came on with a soft  _click_ as he walked back into Ryan’s room. He rubbed the towel through his hair a handful more times before tossing it into what he hoped was the dirty hamper. Ryan showed no distress, so he guessed that he was right. “Was the blueberry body wash yours?”

“Yeah, Jack took all of his stuff with him. Why, did you want to use it?” Ryan asked.

“Uh, more like I already used it. I smell fucking amazing.”

“Wait lemme check.” Ryan rolled off the bed and walked over to Michael, burying his face into his damp curls. “Mm, you’re right.”

“Oh my God,” Michael muttered, face flushing immediately. “Get out of here, weirdo.” Ryan backed off, practically giggling. He was already wearing his pajamas - a loose fitting college t-shirt and some boxers. Michael stared at Ryan’s legs as he pulled the covers back up.

Ryan paused, holding the blankets up with an arm. “Did you, uh, wanna hop in now, or,” he trailed off.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Michael stammered. “I might get the, uh, pillow wet.” He rubbed at his hair.

Ryan shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t mind.” Michael hummed, trying not to show his nervousness and probably failing. A lot.

“After you then,” he gestured with a weak flail of his hand towards the bed.

“You can get in first if you want,” Ryan offered.

“Nah, it’s your bed. You go first.”

“Okay,” Ryan shrugged, and hopped into bed, laying up against the wall the bed was pressed against.

Michael nodded and after clicking off the light, slowly walked towards the mattress that was suddenly a lot smaller than he had initially realized now that Ryan was also in it. He eased himself into bed and under the comforter and was immediately met with Ryan’s body heat, Ryan’s scent of laundry detergent and soap and - of course, Ryan himself.

“Never thought I’d be in bed with a model,” Michael joked. He couldn’t meet Ryan’s eyes, much more fascinated by the fabric of Ryan’s shirt. The shirt that was a bit stretched across Ryan’s soft chest. Damn it. Ryan made it so hard to not focus on Ryan.  _Ryan._

Michael could feel Ryan staring at him. He didn’t want to look up. “What is it?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Just - can I… hold you? Or is that weird.” Michael bit the inside of his cheek, considering. Ryan was still so touchy, compared to him, but the hugging and kissing and handholding hadn’t been as awkward or oppressive as he imagined it would be. It had always been - nice. Would this be any different? Michael winced, imagining being trapped in a too small mattress all night, Ryan’s arms crushing him as he slept.

He shifted slightly, suddenly painfully aware that both of their bodies were ramrod straight in the tiny bed, stuck on their sides to prevent Michael from rolling over the edge. This wasn’t exactly the epitome of comfort, either.

“Um, yeah,” Michael said, uncertainty still in his voice. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”

“No - it’s fine. I might just, I don’t know, get up in the middle of the night or something.” Ryan didn’t respond, but he heard the bedsheets shift, and Ryan slowly wound an arm over Michael’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Ryan’s foot nudged between Michael’s, their legs slightly entangled. He could feel Ryan’s warm breath on the back of his neck.

“So this is okay?” Ryan asked.

Michael breathed slowly through his nose. “Yeah. This, uh. This works.” The grip around him tightened slightly and he swallowed. “Yeah.” He stared at the wall, eyes unseeing in the darkness. He could feel and hear Ryan’s breath. He wanted to shift, but couldn’t bring himself to.

But he had been right about the plane taking a lot out of him. As Ryan got comfortable nuzzling into the junction of his neck and shoulder, Michael shut his eyes, and sometime after that, fell asleep.

 

-

 

He had mostly been kidding about having to get up in the middle of the night, but at some point Michael did wake up, bladder way too full. He nudged Ryan’s arm up and rolled out of bed, tiptoeing to the bathroom. It was probably one, maybe two in the morning. The suite was frigid from the air conditioning, Michael’s skin prickling as he slipped back into the bedroom.

When Ryan’s arm went around his middle this time, he let out a sigh of contentment at the warmth, shutting his eyes again.

After a minute, he felt the bed move as Ryan sat up slightly, startling Michael at his sudden movement. He tensed, heart jackhammering in his chest as Ryan pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“Michael, are you still awake?” Ryan whispered into his skin. Michael couldn’t hold back a small snort.

“You up? You got Kik?” he mocked. The bed shook as Ryan laughed.

“I’m trying to be, you know, heartfelt right now. Stop mocking me.” Michael let out a soft laugh, but he didn’t say anything else. He turned over to face Ryan. The room was dark, but they were so close Michael could still make out the impression of Ryan’s features.

“Alright, I’m listening,” Michael was tempted to sit up on his own elbow to mirror Ryan’s pose, but there was almost no room between them on the bed.

“Well now you got me embarrassed, I don’t know if I should say anything,” Ryan huffed, petulant. Michael could imagine the pout that was on his face as well as he knew his own name.

“Come on baby, don't be like that,”

There was a shove at his shoulder. “Shut up. I was  _trying_ to say that…” Ryan trailed off. Michael opened his mouth to point out how it’s hard to hear Ryan with all that silence coming out of his mouth, but Ryan spoke again.

“I want to go on about how much it means to me to have you here, with me, in person, but all I can think about right now is how much I want to kiss you. It woke me up, I was actually dreaming about it so hard. I think I might go crazy if I hold out any longer,” Ryan babbled. Michael swallowed thickly. It was so warm between the two of them, and he almost wanted to pull away, afraid that Ryan would just  _know_ how desperate he was by being so close. But he hated the thought of parting even more. “Sorry if that - it's stupid, sorry.”

“I mean, you said we could finish the reunion at your place,” Michael said, working past the nerves, the lump in his throat. “We didn't get around to that, did we?”

“No,” Ryan breathed out.

“So…” Michael didn't need any light to sense that Ryan was shifting, drawing closer. “Do you want to pick up where we left off?”

His answer came in the form of Ryan’s lips pressing to Michael’s own. It felt the same as it had at the airport, gentle and sweet. This time, however, there was a charge behind it, an energy that made Michael shiver even as Ryan kept the kisses chaste between them.

Ryan’s mouth was warm against his own, or maybe they were both running hot, he couldn’t tell. Michael ran a hand through the other's hair and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning at the low noise Ryan let out against his mouth. Ryan used that moment to slide his tongue past Michael’s lips, deepening the kiss and making Michael’s toes curl against the bedsheets. He had tensed his muscles when Ryan first leaned into the kiss, still nervous, but now - well, he the nerves were still there, but he couldn’t deny he felt good, felt  _safe_ with how easy it was to kiss his boyfriend like this, as though they’d been doing it for ages.

His head spun for a moment when he was gently pushed onto his back, a ‘ _fuck’_ falling from his mouth even as Ryan chased after him, nipping at his bottom lip and pressing a leg between Michael’s parted thighs.

Ryan pulled back a moment. “You alright?” he asked, quiet even though they had no reason to be. Michael swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, just - surprised me, is all.”

“Oh.” Their lips met again. “Sorry,” he added, before deepening the kiss. Ryan’s body resting over his was too much - he shoved the rest of the sheets off of them and rested his hand on Ryan’s back, dipping his fingers beneath his shirt to feel his skin, warm and soft to the touch. Ryan laughed softly as he pulled away from Michael’s mouth.

“Somebody’s eager,” he joked. Michael glared at him.

“I’m sorry, but who’s got a leg between my thighs right now?” he deadpanned. Ryan hummed in amusement and shifted, his thigh suddenly pressing against Michael’s crotch, a solid weight directly on his cock. He let out a small gasp before he could stop himself.

“So sorry, didn’t hear that last bit, what was that Michael?”

“Shut the fuck up. Why are we not making out right now, you asshole fuck.”

Ryan let out a lilting laugh, eyes bright. “Good question.” He pressed another kiss into Michael’s mouth, thigh still between pressing Michael’s legs.

It was easy for Michael to fall into the warm, sweet ease of kissing Ryan. Even with the tension between them, and Ryan’s thigh still pushed again his cock, they weren’t pushing forward to do anything else yet. The soft sounds of them kissing made Michael feel giddy, and he couldn’t help himself from giggling as he bit at Ryan’s bottom lip. Ryan responded by bumping his nose into Michael’s, which only made him laugh more.

“Stop that,” Ryan grumbled playfully. Michael lightly raked his nails up Ryan’s back, watching with a smug satisfaction as the other arched into the touch and groaned. “ _Michael_.”

“I can’t help that you’re really hot.” Michael shifted underneath him, startling as Ryan’s thigh rubbed against his cock again. “Oh God.”

“Fuck, Michael.” Ryan kissed him roughly, and suddenly Michael found himself being tugged and moved around again until he was the one on top of Ryan, straddling him. Ryan’s hands dropped to his ass, squeezing. Michael jolted forward in surprise for a second before falling back into Ryan’s hands, biting his lip when he realized he could  _feel_ Ryan’s cock under him now. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“I guess you're uh. I guess you're happy to see me,” he weakly joked. Ryan snorted, moving his hands to Michael’s hips to steady him.

“If that was your first clue, I’m really worried about your observational skills. Like, do you even know where you are right now?”

“I can tell you where  _you’re_ about to be, smartass,” he said with a smirk. Even though it was a joke, Ryan’s fingers tightened around Michael. His smirk widened. “But something tells me you already know.”

If Ryan had a reply, it was cut off by Michael pressing their lips together. Michael pulled back, pressing a kiss to the other’s jaw, then to the side of his neck. “I know you’ve thought about it,” he teased, rocking his hips so they ground against Ryan’s crotch.

“Can you really blame -  _oh fuck Michael_ ,” Ryan gasped, gripping tighter onto Michael's hips. Michael felt powerful on top of Ryan, rubbing his ass against the other’s cock and shivering as he felt Ryan react underneath him, the two of them only separated by thin layers of underwear. Ryan’s face was already flushed pink, even as he tried to gain control by tugging Michael by the shirt, leading him down into another messy kiss. “You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured against his lips.

“I’m not gonna  _kill_ you,” Michael protested, as though he wasn't already moving to leave a trail of open mouth kisses down the other's neck.

"You going after my neck implies otherwise, Jones," Ryan sounded breathless and Michael couldn't stop himself from biting the soft skin along Ryan’s collar, scraping his teeth and laving his tongue against the reddening spot. That made Ryan gasp, hands running along Michael’s back like he wanted to hold onto something for reassurance. “You - You’re gonna leave a mark.”

“Gonna leave more than one,” Michael said, grinning up at Ryan’s flushed face. “Weren’t you planning on doing the same?”

"I'm. I just - why do I keep trying to talk? Fuck it -" Ryan's hips thrusted up against his in a slow grind mimicking what Michael himself had been doing before. Michael groaned, easily falling into the rhythm Ryan set up. He could already feel his own cock leaking into his underwear, and he bit his lip, sweating despite his light clothing.

With shaky hands, Michael reached behind his head and tugged his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Ryan’s hands immediately curled around his stomach, thumbs brushing against his bottom ribs. Michael desperately tried not to think about how big Ryan’s hands were, or how warm, or how gentle he was being… A thought that had been lurking in the back of his mind for ages now came forward, tumbling out of his mouth without thought: “Are you gonna fuck me, Ryan?”

Ryan hissed through his teeth, hips stuttering. "You can't just say that Michael, fuck." Ryan gave him an almost helpless look, biting his lip and petting his hands all over Michael’s stomach.

Michael pouted. “What do you mean I can’t just say that? I’ve been  _thinking_ about it for months - probably longer, I mean…” Michael traced his fingers along Ryan’s side, up to his shoulder, before running along his arm and clasping his hand. He stroked his thumb along the other’s wrist for a moment. “I want you to, at some point, if that’s okay?” He brought Ryan’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Fuck, Ryan, do you know how many times I’ve gotten off just by thinking about how you’d feel inside me?”

Michael watched Ryan’s throat work, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. "No I uh. I don't. Didn’t know I mean. Oh God." Michael kept his eyes locked on Ryan’s, even as he brought the other’s hand up further, lightly kissing the tip of each finger.

"I, um. Brought lube with me," Michael admitted, eyes never leaving Ryan's surprised gaze. "I wasn't gonna force you, but I was hoping you'd finger me open until I came." Michael’s gut clenched at the thought. “I’ve - I’ve done it before, thinking it was you, but…”

“Did you come like that?” Ryan asked, voice much lower than before. Michael watched him lick his lips, the hand Michael was holding dropping to his thigh, nearly touching his cock that was obviously tenting his boxers by now.

“More times than I can remember,” Michael admitted, watching Ryan’s gaze roll up towards the ceiling in some act of desperation, his hips pushing against Michael’s own as his boyfriend mumbled a quiet, “ _Fuck._ ”

“Yeah? You uh,” Michael licked his lips, trying to focus on speaking and not about how easy it would be to get them both naked with Ryan pressing wet inside of him. “You into that, Ry?”

Ryan let out a dry laugh. “Am I into that,” he repeated, sounding a world away. The hand on his thigh crept forward, pressing at the front of Michael’s boxers, making the younger man let out a soft moan. He pressed up into Ryan’s hand until the other tugged the front of his underwear down, wrapping his fingers around Michael’s cock and giving it a light stroke. “Come on, just-” Ryan’s hands went to the waistband of his boxers, and Michael was lifting his hips, shoving them off the rest of the way before settling back on top of Ryan’s lap again.

Ryan raised his head a bit more to look at Michael, eyes raking from head to toe. “Fuck,” he said, echoing himself. He grabbed onto Michael's hips again, lifting him up and grinding him back down onto his lap. Ryan's cock rubbed against Michael's bare ass, as though he was -

“Oh God,” Michael whined, leaning down until they were pressed chest to chest. “Fuck me just like that, please Ryan.”

“Michael,” Ryan hissed, like he couldn’t bear to hear what Michael was saying. “I just -”

“- I want you to come in me so bad Ryan, I need it,” Michael couldn't stop himself from babbling. He pressed frenzied, open-mouthed kisses to Ryan’s chest and neck even as he ground his hips against Ryan’s, nearly shivering from the sweet friction. “It would be so fucking hot if you did.” He should have been embarrassed, fuck, he was gagging for it already, but he couldn’t help himself. The fact that Ryan was  _right there,_ that he could finally hold him and touch him and kiss him - the reality of it crashed against him again for the umpteenth time that day, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

Ryan let out a choked noise and suddenly his hips snapped up harshly against Michael once - twice - then he was groaning low in the back of his throat, holding onto Michael tightly. Michael felt a sudden warmth between them -

Oh. _Oh._

 _“_ Ryan, did. Did you just -?” Michael couldn't hold back the surprise in his voice. Ryan pressed an arm over his eyes as he panted, the flush on his cheeks getting darker.

“I swear,” he spoke through gritted teeth,“I swear this has never happened to me before Michael. Just - you kept talking and it was too much and - sorry.”

Michael blinked, rising on his hands to look up at Ryan. “Don’t say sorry, it’s not - I’m not  _upset,_ Ryan. That was actually, uh… I wasn’t expecting you to, um, do that, is all.” He worried his lip for a moment. “Actually, it was really fucking hot, to be honest.”

Ryan’s arm shifted, an eye peering out to look at Michael. “Really?”

Michael scoffed. “Well, duh. My super hot boyfriend just came because he thinks  _I'm_ super hot. Also that felt really nice.” He ran a hand through his hair, tone thoughtful, “Oh fuck, dude, if you'd been naked too it would have been all over me. What a missed opportunity.”

Ryan's eyes were wide. “Sorry,” he wheezed. “Next time? Or -”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, leaning up to kiss Ryan, sweet and lazy. “I’m down for next time.”  Ryan finally took his arm from his face, wrapping around Michael’s waist instead, pressing them close. He felt warm and content, and a bit proud for having gotten Ryan off mostly with his words. He would have been content to stay like that for a while, but he was still painfully hard, pressed against Ryan, and that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Ryan seemed to have had the same thought, and Michael shivered as his hand moved between them to rub at the head of his cock. “I've got you.” His other hand tilted Michael’s chin, dragging him into another kiss as Ryan started to stroke him in light touches. Not exactly teasing him, just - taking his time. When Ryan’s thumb slipped up, pressing along his slit, Michael gasped into his mouth, hand fisting in the sheets beneath them both. “Feels good?” Ryan asked, mouth brushing against Michael’s as he spoke.

“Feels amazing, fuck, don't stop,” Michael groaned.

“Shh, I won’t. Want you to feel good,” he kissed the corner of Michael’s mouth, aim lazy as he watched his hand on Michael’s cock. “Want you to come - can you come for me, Michael?”

Michael swallowed, a shiver going through him. “Yeah, just, keep doing that. I’m so c-close already.” Ryan moved his hand - Michael wanted to whine in complaint - only to grab the back of his knee and tug his leg over Ryan’s bringing them even closer together, bodies completely flushed and entangled. Michael felt his face down to his chest grow hot. Even if they were on their sides, he felt open and more exposed than before. He bit his lip as Ryan licked his palm and continued stroking him. At this angle, Michael had no way to tense up against the pleasure, his thigh shaking as he couldn’t hold back his desperate groans.

“God, you’re so -,” Michael barely bit back a whimper as Ryan sped up his hand, “ _grabby_.”

“That a bad thing?” Ryan asked with a low chuckle. He ducked his head, pressing a kiss to Michael’s throat.

“N-no,” he choked out, Michael’s hand wrapping around Ryan’s back. He dug his fingers into the meat of his boyfriend’s shoulder, trying to hold on.

“I can finally touch you,” Ryan added, thumb circling around the slit of Michael’s cock. “As much as I want, any way, any time, right?”

“Yeah,” Michael panted, nails pressing harder into Ryan’s skin. “Yeah, yeah,” He shivered when Ryan kept kissing down his neck and along his collar, and the involuntary twitches of pleasure combined seamlessly with his orgasm. He let out a gasp, drawing closer to Ryan as his muscles contracted, shaft pulsing and come hitting Ryan’s stomach and chest and hand.

“God, that was so fucking hot Michael,” Ryan breathed, and Michael couldn’t help but let out a weak giggle.

“You sound like such a frat boy,” he managed to choke out as he shook. He felt Ryan kiss his hair, and somehow draw him closer - he resolutely ignored the feeling of his own come hitting his stomach.

“Sorry,” Ryan murmured, kissing Michael’s nose. “You were great.”

“Didn’t really do much.” Ryan kissed his mouth, then his jaw. “Stop,” he giggled again. Ryan did stop, and pulled himself off the bed, even though that was the opposite of what Michael wanted him to do.

“We should probably rinse off,” the other offered. “Stay there.” Ryan took a step backwards, but still had his eyes trailing along Michael’s body. What did he see? A sweaty, pink-tinged guy with his own jizz on his stomach? Michael shifted, awkwardly, and Ryan opened the bedroom door and left. Michael chewed on his lip. He felt kind of gross, and cold, now that he was alone in the bed. Was he meant to shower after Ryan? Should he just change into new clothes? God, how awkward would that be if Ryan came back and he was just bent over ass out grabbing a new pair of underwear -

The door opened again, startling him. Ryan tossed his underwear into the laundry hamper as he went. He was clean, and he walked up to the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress as he knelt next to Michael. A warm washcloth was suddenly running against the skin of Michael’s stomach, and he let out a soft noise.

“I feel like a cat,” he mumbled.

Ryan snorted, smiling to himself. “What an amazing analogy.” He tossed the washcloth to the side and it landed in the hamper as well. “Am I allowed back in bed?”

Michael sighed, purposefully stretching his arms and legs out along the mattress. “Hm, I don’t know…” Ryan pushed him, trying to make him roll onto his side. “Nooooo.” He went with the gently placed shoves, rolling against the wall. Ryan followed after, situating himself and dragging Michael right back into his arms.

“You gonna let me get back to sleep now?” Michael asked. Ryan hummed, his nose pressing once again into the crook of Michael’s shoulder. “I’m taking that as a yeah.”

“Shh,” Ryan mumbled. “I’m sleeping.”

Michael couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Goodnight, idiot.”

 

-

 

Twenty minutes after Michael woke up, he realized how much of a liar Ryan was.

“Jesus fuck, there’s only bacon in here,” Michael grumbled as he looked through the bare fridge. “Stocked the fridge my ass. Everything you got is frozen.”

“It’s good bacon!” Ryan protested, walking into the kitchen. They had managed to throw on some underwear before rolling out of bed, but not much else. “You don’t like that sweet maple glaze?”

“Not if I don’t have other things to eat with it. Bacon sandwiches would fucking destroy my stomach.” He shut the fridge door with a huff. He was about to comb through the pantries for some cereal when a pair of arms wrapped around his middle. Ryan’s chin nestled on his shoulder.

“Ya know,” Ryan drawled, “I could get used to this.”

Michael snorted, reaching a hand back to pet at Ryan’s tangled bedhead. “What, me bitching at your empty cabinets while we starve?”

“Okay, maybe not that part.” A soft kiss was pressed to Michael’s neck and he could feel the heat building high on his cheeks. “I like having you here, where I can see you. Hold you. It’s… nice knowing that what I feel for you is just as strong in person as it is online.”

“Shut up,” Michael quietly muttered, not really meaning it. Ryan laughed softly against the shell of his ear. He felt goosebumps rise up on his arms and tried not to shiver. “Fucker,” he added, eloquently. Ryan chuckled. His voice was deep and clear and - different than what he was used to hearing. He thought he had loved his boyfriend’s voice  _before._

Ryan’s hands ran down Michael’s biceps, along his forearms, before interlacing their fingers together. “This is nice,” he added, not responding to Michael’s jabs. It was hard to evade mushy stuff when Ryan didn’t want to play his game.

“It - it is,” he said. “I - I was really worried it wouldn’t - we wouldn’t click, in person,”

“I know.”

“But it’s still really easy to be with you. It feels natural and simple and - special.” He frowned. “I wish I could explain it better than that, you know I’m shit at using words.”

“You tell me things in your own way, Michael. I can understand what you mean.” Ryan was shifting his weight from side to side, and with the way he was holding Michael in his arms, it meant he went with the motions, rocking slightly on the cool kitchen tile. “I’m a theater kid, I’m good at spouting out nonsense.”

“Even when you flub your words half the time?”

“Hey,” Ryan flexed his fingers slightly, but Michael held on. He didn’t want Ryan to pull away. And part of him didn’t want to have to turn around and face him. Not that he didn’t love to look at Ryan, but - he had been thinking about it. And waiting for the right time. And it was always easier to say the hard stuff when you didn’t have to make eye contact.

He sighed. “Ryan?” he got a little hum in his ear as answer. “I love you.” He subtly squeezed Ryan’s hands in his own, hoping the other man felt the same.

The arms wrapped around him tightened, then eased their grip. “Would you get mad if I repeated what I said, like, five seconds ago about you telling me things in your own way? Because yeah, I know.” Michael made an annoyed sound before Ryan shushed him. “I love you too, and I appreciate you saying it out loud.”

“I - I thought you should know,” Michael said, feeling the back of his neck warm up. “I didn’t want to tell you online, I guess. In case we weren’t… yeah. But I’ve never felt like this for anyone before.” Michael swore he woke up one day to some cheesy good morning text from Ryan and that had been it. He’d fallen hook, line, sinker. Months ago, at this point.

“Not even with that Gavin guy?” Ryan said.

Huh? “What about Gavin?”

“Uh, Gavin? Your boyfriend from high school?” Michael startled as it finally clicked. Oh yeah...Gavin.

“Oh. Gavin. Right. Yeah, I may have um… exaggerated our, uh, relationship status.”

“Was he just a hookup?”

“More like… a straight guy I wasn’t over for all of high school because we kissed at a party once when we were both drunk,” he said in a rush. Ryan’s fingers slipped from Michael’s as he whirled the younger man around to face him. Fuck. Now he wished he could wriggle out of Ryan’s grasp and get some space. Maybe stand in a completely different room.

“So what you’re telling me,” Ryan began, an intense look in his eyes, “Is that I’m your first boyfriend? Experience? Ever?”

Michael winced. “Uh. Yeah. I didn’t think it was a really important, uh, lie. I just - when you asked about past relationships I didn’t want to seem like a complete loser. You know? Being able to drink before being in a relationship seems so -”

“Normal,” Ryan said gently. “You’re not the forty year old virgin, Michael. High school fucking sucks, especially if you’re gay and trying to figure all that out, but not make it  _too_ obvious because rumors start and your classmates are dicks.” He sighed.

“I’m guessing you’re kind of familiar with it, then, huh?”

“You’re not the only one who got a horrible crush on a straight guy that was nice to you. Been there.” He waved a hand.

“So, you’re not mad. Right?”

“Nah. You lied but - I probably would’ve done the same. No one wants to seem like they’re naive.” He paused a moment. “You definitely didn’t seem inexperienced last night,” he added, voice a touch deeper than before. The warmth had started to move a bit lower than his flushed cheeks…

“Yeah, uh, you know. Heat of the moment.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “You sure that’s all that was?” Ryan took a step forward, and Michael stepped back, only to hit the counter immediately. Ryan kept advancing. “All the stuff you said you imagined, and that you wanted to try?”

“The moment was really hot,” Michael gasped as Ryan’s - big, strong,  _God_ \- hands suddenly grabbed just below his ass, lifting him up onto the counter with ease. “Uh. Like that. That was one of those moments,” Michael said, voice cracking.

“So if I replicate one of these moments…” Ryan carried on, fingers creeping along the top of Michael’s thighs.

“You can do whatever you want,” Michael said. He parted his legs as Ryan moved to stand between them. “Yeah, y-” Michael cut himself off as someone’s stomach gurgled exceptionally loudly. “Um.”

“That was me,” Ryan said. “Sorry. Uhh, maybe we should table this for later? Post breakfast?”

Michael wanted to argue, but now that the moment had broken, he realized his own stomach felt like it was about to start eating itself any minute. “Unless you’re hiding a buffet somewhere in here, I don’t really know what we could make…”

“We could drive down to iHop, would that work?”

“No Waffle House? Aren’t those big here?”

“You don’t go to Waffle House to think highly of yourself. You go there because it’s open and you know what the food will be. And you’re somewhere between hating yourself and loving yourself and it’s a very narrow channel to walk. And in that channel,” he said, spreading his arms, “is Waffle House.”

“Fine, alright, jeez. iHop it is.” Michael moved to get off the counter, but Ryan picked him up again. In surprise, Michael wrapped his arms and legs around his boyfriend. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you?”

“Yeah, I’m not an idiot. Why?”

“Because I can,” Ryan said brightly. He left the kitchen and went down the hall, depositing Michael on their shared, messy bed. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Well. Michael couldn’t argue with him.

 

-

 

“So I finally noticed the vandalism you left on my door,” Ryan’s voice greeted him the second he answered the skype call with a quick  _hey_. “Were the eyebrows necessary?”

“It makes Ryan the cow look dignified, I think,” he replied, lazily opening up all of his other tabs to take up half of his screen. It left his skype open just enough so that he could still see Ryan’s pouting face. “I did say that I was gonna fix it, didn’t I?”

“I thought you’d forgotten since we jumped to the topic of food right after you mentioned it,” Ryan admitted, “and then we did all that other stuff.” Michael snickered as he continued clicking through his email inbox. He had been trying to trim down the frankly ridiculous number of emails in his account when Ryan called him. He was in a groove though, so he kept at it. It had only been two weeks since he’d returned home from Georgia, and it was soothing to have Ryan talking to him, even if it was once again through their computer screens. It wasn’t the  _same,_ but he at least had their time together to remind him that what they had was real - that they worked.

Ryan cleared his throat. “My eyes are up here, Michael.”

“Shut up,” Michael replied, still clicking. Oh wow, single Asians were looking for him. “I can multitask.”

“Our co-op sessions where you try to tell me about your day would say otherwise.”

“Not if I’m just shitty at playing video games. Didn’t think about that, did you?”

“Oh, believe me, I have. Many times.” Michael glanced back at Ryan, smiling. “Ah, yes, your attention is all mine again.”

“Idiot,” Michael told him, fondly.

“Anything good in that spam folder of yours?” Ryan asked. His chin rested on the palm of his hand, attention focused solely on watching Michael. He glanced at his emails again, snorting.

“If I was looking for a mail order bride from Russia, maybe,” he answered.

“...anyway,” Ryan continued after a pause, “I have something better for you to look at.” As he spoke, the chat binged, alerting Michael to a new message below their video. He clicked it with no hesitation.

“This better be a dick pic or I might have to check out this brides offer.”

“Why would someone want a dick pic?” Ryan asked, mostly to himself. “Like, just that. Floating in a fleshy background. How does that do it for anyone.”

“Well I think that it’s more about the -” Michael stopped, squinting at the image that had loaded. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey it was just a question, no need to be mean -”

“No you fuck off right now.” Michael moved back in his chair, biting at his knuckle. Ryan had booked himself a round trip Southwest flight for two months from now. Atlanta to Newark for ten days. “Holy shit. You -”

“You said you didn’t have anything lined up for August,” Ryan started, weakly, “So I thought I could come up for a while.”

“Ry-an.” Michael was about to cry. “Holy fuck.”

“Surprise?”

“S - Shut up, you dick, I love you,” He sniffed, taking his glasses off to wipe at his eyes. “You’re the best.”

“I’m getting a lot of mixed signals here.”

“I’m gonna punch you in your dumb handsome face,” Michael whined, shoving his glasses back on his face.

“Okay, good mixed signals then.”

“Yeah,” He gave Ryan a smile. “I can’t wait to listen to Denise ask you about your whole life story. And my brothers -” He grimaced. “Eh, maybe not them.”

“I can beat up your brothers for you. I’ve got the guns.” Ryan flexed one of his biceps at him. He did have pretty sweet arms, to be honest.

“Yeah but if Denise comes for you you’re on your fucking own.” Ryan chuckled.

“I’ll just have to charm her with my winning personality.”

“Right. Yeah. So uh, how many days till you fly out?” he eyed the itinerary again.

“About seven weeks.”

Michael sat back in his chair. “Ugh, longest seven weeks of my life.”

“You made it through two years,” Ryan sent him a gentle, adoring smile, which Michael returned. “I’m sure seven weeks will fly by.”

“Yeah, I really hope so.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed soon anyhow? You said you had an early shift tomorrow,” Ryan reminded him. Michael groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face. Fuck, he was so excited now, how was Ryan expecting him to sleep?

“I’m a big boy, Ry. I can stay up,” he argued.

“Michael, come on. I’ve seen in real life how well you do with early mornings after staying up all night.”

“Okay fine, shut up. You just got on though!”

“Yeah, my mom needed some help moving in some new furniture pieces she bought from one of her antique adventures.” Ryan sighed. “They’re all tacky and horrid. I hate it. Did you know that off-white looks like melted ice cream?”

“I’m starting to think you’re trying to bore me to death,” Michael deadpanned, “I think it’s working.”

“I’m glad my plan worked. Goodnight, sweetheart.” Ryan made a kissy face at him, and it made him laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, asshole.” Michael clicked the Call End button, and Ryan’s smiling face was gone in an instant. “Fucker.” He turned his attention back to his emails, eyes widening as he noticed a reply from a nearby apartment complex that he’d been thinking about checking out. It was closer to his job, and just the right size for him and maybe someone visiting.

As he opened his email to read their response, he laughed. Hell, if he timed this right, he could be free of his pestering mom and brothers,  _and_ getting his boyfriend to help move everything over there. The wait time on most places was at least a month or so anyhow...

 


End file.
